


Rain Will make the Flowers Grow

by ratedgrandr



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratedgrandr/pseuds/ratedgrandr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius and Cosette grieve in their own ways. Short and angsty, how I like it. Definitely lines up with the movie, not much else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain Will make the Flowers Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Before every one goes cray on me, this fic is pretty strictly movie verse in regards to Eponine’s death. This is assuming she was at the barricade and took the bullet for Marius, like she did in the movie. That being said, I don’t know the dynamic between Cosette and Eponine is quite lovely if you think about it and I really wanted to write angsty Marius so. Enjoy! Don’t be too harsh.

On many occasions Cosette had accompanied her husband to this very graveyard, and there were times she hadn’t come with him as well. Lately, Marius had taken to visiting his friends on his own, for it was easier to communicate he had informed her in a sweet tone, as if he were telling her she wasn’t allowed coming to boys’ night because there would be gambling and drinking and cigar smoke, and such places were not for ladies like Cosette. But this was no boys’ night, and today was a sad occasion.

A very sad occasion.

In fact, it was so sad that Cosette hadn’t pushed Marius when he’d laid in bed longer than he would on any other given day. She hadn’t pried him to speak over their simple breakfast of croissants and jam and fresh butter. She’d just quietly held his hand, her thumb gently stroking small circles over his soft skin as he reminisced. His eyes were hollow, and it was evident he’d retreated far into his mind, to a place she couldn’t follow. And she didn’t need to follow. Marius had to grieve on his own, she’d learned this early on. Talking to him about it put him on edge; he would turn snappy and even more distant, and would reject her comforting touches and soft words. So she just let him think, for at least she could hold his hand through it all.

They walked, today, because it was warm and the sun was already positioned high in the sky. Birds sang happily, children laughed as the clutched onto their mother’s skirts and minded the people passing by. Cosette’s fingers were right around Marius’s, and she daren’t stop the contact between them. She was so scared that if she let go, she might finally lose him.

Marius’s life was a miracle. His survival of the rebellion was something Cosette thanked God for every day. She thanked Him in the morning when she was lucky enough to wake up to that perfect face, finally content in sleep, and she thanked Him every night when the day ended, signifying one more step in the right direction towards mental stability for Marius. Every small touch Cosette shared with Marius was a prayer; she was thankful in the way she stroked his cheek when he left her, his mind drifting off back to another time. She was thankful with each kiss, some gentle to remind him that she was here and she was never leaving, and others passionate and desperate and aching for him to remember the initial adoration that had brought them together. Even when he actions got harsh or unkind, like pushing his kind fingers away when he tried to help her lace her gown, they were still grateful that she had him to push away.

It had been one year ago exactly on this very day.

One year ago yesterday the barricade had arisen, glorious and stout and proud in it’s stature. One year ago today, it had fallen and crumbled beneath the monarchy’s feet. Blood stained it’s skeleton, flesh was sacrificed in hopes of a new dawn rising, youthful smiles were put out and innocence was forgotten one year ago today.

But Marius was still here. Marius, a hollow shell of a man who had nothing but his beloved wife to cling to; Marius, who lost every friend he knew and who openly wept with desperation before each of their caskets, shattered sobs praying for God to grant him one last wish: that he may live each day in their name, fulfilling the lives they would never know, or let him die in their stead.

Cosette had watched as her husband fell apart at the seams, ripping and unraveling and shattering in a fragile manner. She’d tried to hold the pieces together but she was only a single person, and she realized that out of the ashes of misery came the beauty of creation. It just took time.

As they entered the cemetery, Cosette squeezed Marius’s cold hand. He exhaled slowly and his dulled eyes immediately shot to the left. He had a routine for these things, and his visits here were precise and well planned. He would always start with Grantaire, who was the furthest to the left, then end with Courfeyrac, whose grave was closest to the gates and who was the hardest hill for Marius to overcome. “Would you like me to come with you?” Cosette asked. Her fingers wove around his neck at the base of his skull, and she lovingly pulled him in close, foreheads touching and breath mingled in honor of the life they were lucky enough to share. He inhaled sharply and shook his head no. Cosette was careful to press a delicate kiss to his lips, one of comfort and not lust, before nodding and giving him space. He needed space and time and she would be mere feet away if he needed her that desperately.

And so Marius took his post at the far end of the yard. His head was bowed, and hot tears of grief already streamed down his freckled cheeks. He stood still as a statue, his hands stuck clutched behind his back, and his head tilted slightly forward as he silently cried over a misery and pain Cosette was positive he would always feel. He looked like an angel, she couldn’t help but think, except it was a bit backwards, wasn’t it? He was the mortal, and she was positive the boys watched over him. They had to, he was their last hope, wasn’t he?

A soft sigh escaped Cosette’s lips as she turned to stare down the row of tombstones that stood tall and proud and erect. It was ironic how the tombstones boasted over lives when their counterparts were six feet under, Cosette couldn’t help but think as a chill ran down her spine. She slowly walked along the row, eyeing each tombstone and chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip. She didn’t know anyone in this cemetery besides Marius’s friends, and that really didn’t even count. But she had a reverence for those gone, and she kept her head slightly bowed and her hands folded in a silent prayer as she read each name and honored them with what could be their last acknowledgement in this life.

The blonde angel reached the end and noticed a small stone, one smaller than the rest in the yard, and her eyes searched for a name. She crouched lower to inspect it, and upon finding what she was looking for a gasp immediately left her full, rosy lips. In unsteady, chipped scrawl the stone read only two words: Eponine Thenardier.

For half a moment, Cosette’s mind reeled with memories of a boastful brunette, haughty in her actions and quick to flaunt the wealth she had and Cosette didn’t. They were children together… and now look where they stood.

Unexpected tears prickled in Cosette’s wide blue eyes, and she found herself sinking to her knees un a humble gesture as she recalled more, looking past the bad and only seeking out the good she knew was there, for she’d heard the tale. It had been the first Marius had recalled after the barricade.

“She saved me, Cosette, and sacrificed her own flesh for mine… I never deserved her.”

Full lips trembled as Cosette timidly removed her glove and pressed pale fingers against cool stone. She traced the letters carefully with the pad of her index finger, astonishment and wonder in her eyes. This girl, one Cosette had never known, she was one of the few reasons Marius had survived. A twinge plucked at her heart strings, and Cosette felt her stomach twisting into knots, anxious and fervent as she stared blindly at the head stone.

“Eponine…” she breathed finally, as if it were closure for her. “Oh, mon dieu…” she mumbled. It was her own turn for hot, gratifying tears to bubble over and spill forth, coating rosy cheeks and stopping any thoughts other than those of awed gratitude to enter her mind. “You saved him…” she respired. “You saved him, and watched over him on his journey to me, and for that, oh dear, sweet Eponine, I am in your debt…” And she knew that it was more like a debt being settled; Eponine might have had the upper hand when they were children, but now she was the one with no life left in her and buried under layers of solid soil for eternity. Deep within herself, Cosette found a new kind of peace she’d never expected to come from such an experience. Her fingers trembled as she brushed a curl from her face, and the amount of appreciation she felt towards the woman who had passed was completely overwhelming. It knocked the breath out of her, opened her soul to a realization she’d never come to, and made her all the more appreciative of her life.

Cosette wasted no time in signing the cross and bowing her head in worshipful prayer. It wasn’t until she felt prying fingers on her shoulders that she looked up into steel blue eyes swimming with concern. “Marius,” she breathed, as if she’d forgotten he was even here. Cosette scrambled to her feet with her husband’s help and received his eager kiss with relief. Her fingers caught his cheeks and she looked him in the eye as she carefully assessed what condition he was in.

She’d expected to find a deep, grieving sadness. Instead she found a kind of pensiveness, one that was etched into the worn lines on his face and was bringing a new twinkle into his eyes. “Let’s get home, it’s starting to get late,” Marius suggested. Cosette only nodded, gulping down a breath.

Marius lead them to the gate and both sets of eyes looked in opposite directions over shoulders, though Marius stirred first, stepping forward with surprise when his wife didn’t follow. Cosette hesitated her step and instead bit her lip as she dropped Marius’s hand.

“Thank you, Ponine…” she breathed. The wind carried the sound away, as if Eponine herself was there, blushing in the breeze.

Neither of the two had noticed the storm clouds crowding the sky, but as they stepped onto the street the first drops fell and the skies seemed to open, relieving their burdensome load. Marius scoffed up towards the sky and moved to take his coat off for his wife. Cosette pushed it away and smiled widely. People always critiqued the rain, but Cosette saw it for what it really was: purifying. It symbolized a new start, the beginning of a new year, being purged of the doubts she might have had.

It was the rain that washed away the sadness, it’s winds breathing new, fresh life into the couple who had been so unknowingly lost.


End file.
